The Doctor and the Captain
by witchfire24
Summary: Julian and the Apprentice relax in Death's sloop before facing the Devil.


Okay, we finally have a canonically masochistic sub in a fandom I actually care about it. I may burst. Except this turned into undiluted fluff and the softest of soft BDSM. Okay, that's a stretch. It's fluff. Pure fluff. Fluffity fluffy fluff.

Female Apprentice, but she's really mostly gender-neutral

So happy to join this fandom! Follow my Arcana Tumblr lady-of-the-leeches

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We step out onto a boat.

Sparkling blue ocean stretches out to the horizon and a gentle breeze dances through the rigging. The sloop bobs gently, a soothing motion that still makes me stagger slightly before I get my bearings.

"Oh, look at this!" Julian darts around the deck like an excited tadpole, running his hands over the rails and tugging on the ropes. He's as sure on his feet as a mountain goat, though, to use yet another animal simile, he looks more like gangly black and red colt as he springs around the deck. "It's just how I imagined it!"

"It's beautiful—" I start to say, but he's already rushing below decks in a whirl of long legs and black feathers, returning with an enormous red pirate's hat trimmed with gold braid. A long purple feather curls from the brim. His eye patch has returned, as if he'd imagined it hanging beside the hat.

He holds it up to me, making thoughtful noises, just as he had with my costume for the Masquerade. "Every ship needs a captain, my dear," he says.

I put one hand on my hip. "That's Captain to you, doctor!"

He ducks his head, auburn curls falling over his forehead. "Quite right, Captain." He deftly places the hat on my head and tweaks it to a jaunty angle, then steps back appraisingly. "Ahhh, perfect."

I reach up and run my hand down the long purple feather as he admires the hat.

He ducks his head again. "Orders, Captain?" His lips are curved into his trademark smirk, eyebrow cocked at that almost indecent angle he favors. "Use me however you like."

"Swab the deck."

He blinks at me, astonished, and I have to fight back a smile.

If he wants me to act like a proper captain, well…

Catching on, he grins.

"Well?" I say. "Get to it!"

"Right away, Captain!" He snaps off a smart salute and grabs a bucket of water and mop. It's not a proper mop, more of a sponge, and he has to get down on his hands and knees to work it properly.

"Permission to sing?" he asks, kneeling before me with one hand on the mop handle.

I make a show of thinking it over, adjusting the hat to shade my face.

"Granted."

He begins to sing a sea chantey. His voice wobbles on the higher notes, but what he lacks in range he makes up for in gusto and enthusiasm. The lyrics are both physically impossible and shameless—at least I _think _they are—and I have to bite back a giggle.

As he reaches the end, he hooks an arm around my waist and whirls me around the deck. Breathless and grinning, he steps away, and bows while still holding my hand, like a noble at a court dance. "Well? What do you think, Captain? Good enough to earn me some time with you in the captain's quarters?"

I tap my chin, pretending to consider it, then remove my hand from his. "You've earned a little time, pet. But you still have some convincing to do."

His Adam's apple bobs at the word "pet." "Anything!"

I smile, my grimmest, thinnest smile. "Your captain ordered you to swab the deck. Would you disobey your captain?"

He looks startled, and then a familiar pink blush creeps across his features. "I'll do my best, Captain. To, ah, obey, I mean."

I seat myself on the rail of the ship. It's wide and richly carved with mermaids. "Do you swab decks dressed like that?" I ask. "Take the coat off, Doctor Devorak. And the shirt. _Now _."

He bobs his head and strips off his feathered black coat and billowy white shirt, leaving his red tie loosely tied around his throat like—like a _leash _, and gets back down on his hands and knees. The sun has begun to set, painting the sky with streaks of red and gold. His fair skin blushes warmly in the pink light.

The pirates must have made him pitch in with more than free medical care, because slender as he his, his arms and torso are a perfect portrait of lean muscle. I saw him half-undressed in the dim changing tent at the Masquerade, and already knew about those incredible shoulders and waistline, but to see him like this, wearing just his trousers and knee-high boots and red tie, on his knees before me—

I watch him work for a while, admiring him as the dwindling sunlight as it gleams off his writhing back and arm muscles, an oddly satisfied, tingly feeling rising in my chest as he obeys.

"That's enough," I say as the sky deepens to a rich red. "On your feet."

Julian scrambles to his feet with a bow, breathing hard but eager to please. He strides to the door he entered earlier and holds it open with a gallant bow. "After you, Captain."

The Captain's quarters are spacious, lavish, yet comfortably lived-in. Knickknacks crowd the shelves, burnished metal and crystal shining in the warm light. There's a desk with a high-backed chair, a large standing globe, and bookshelf jammed with magical texts. Items from my shop little a table shoved against the far wall.

I swallow hard at the sight of the magical books and items. He put those there for me, as if to show me that he wished to travel the world with me. Make me comfortable, even at the expense of his own comfort. As much as he was warming up to the idea of magic, as a man of science he was still far from at ease with it.

Across the room is a plush sea green couch, in front of a table overflowing with flood and drink. I cross the room and take a seat on the couch, moving cushions until I'm comfortable. Julian stands in the doorway, watching me something close to hunger. But he doesn't approach, his shoulders bowed submissively, waiting instructions from his Captain. His shirt and coat are folded messily over his arm, his broad shoulders silhouetted in the pink light pouring down the steps behind him.

"Come here," I order.

Julian almost trips over himself in his enthusiasm, hurrying to join me. But instead of sitting on the couch, he folds himself down to sit on the floor by my feet.

His face is the same color as the strawberries on the table. "Is this, uh, is this alright—?" He sounds desperately eager, looking up at me through his thick brown eyelashes, and I reach down to tug on his tie, pulling him closer.

"Yes." I tug on the leash-like tie, the soft crimson silk cutting into his throat, and he moans so gently I don't think I'm meant to hear it. "You're doing just fine, Julian."

Flustered at the praise, he moans again, unable to hide it this time. Finally tearing his eyes away from my face, he casts an appraising look over the food.

"May I, Captain?"

I wave my free hand, the other one still holding his leash. "Go ahead."

He selects a perfectly ripe strawberry from a bowl and leans up with one slim white hand braced on my leg, offering the fruit to me.

I can't resist teasing him a little. I extend my tongue to lick the tip of the strawberry, swirling it around the tip, before sinking my teeth into the flesh. He jumps slightly, tapered surgeon's fingers digging into my thigh, and I laugh.

"Not till you earn it, pet. …Are you hungry?"

He nods, closing his eyes briefly at the word "pet." I select one of the tiny flaky pastries from the table and hold it out to him.

"Your turn, pet," I say. He cranes his face up towards me, long lines of his throat so sharp I could cut glass with it….

And I drop the pastry on the floor.

His breath catches in his throat, and then he leans forward to pick it up, the tie leash pulling taught.

We eat what feels like our weight in delicacies but there's none of the heavy feeling that would accompany such a meal in the human realm, Julian feeding me, me selecting the food for him and…feeding him, after a fashion. With a contented sigh, he leans against my leg. I run my fingers through his thick soft hair, tugging on it so it hurts just enough, and he grins briefly up at me.

"You know, I might just fall asleep here."

"Then we'd better get to bed first." I can see the bed from here, tucked into an alcove in the far wall behind a swoop of gauzy curtains. The bed is piled high with pillows and blankets, the sheets silken. Julian, for all his seat-of-the-pants adventures and hardscrabble years at sea—or perhaps because of it—clearly values comfort and luxury.

"Get up," I order. Julian scrambles to his feet and stands there, head bowed, waiting. I offer him my hand, and he helps me to my feet as if I'm the Countess and he a humble servant who is awed at being somehow allowed to touch her. I let go of his hand and take up his leash again, holding it so that he has to bend slightly to keep from being strangled.

"I was right, you know," he says as I lead him over to the bed. "You _are _very commanding in that hat."

I can't exactly wear it to bed, though, so I reach up and take off the hat, hanging it on a wall hook. When I turn around, I burst into laughter. Julian's boots are off, and he's arranged himself on the bed, limbs spread out in blatant invitation.

I pull my outer layer of clothes off, hiding a grin as his face turns red again. As soon as I get close he reaches out, tugging me into bed with him. The mattress is almost indecently soft. I sink into it with a pleased sigh and cuddle against him, game over for now.

"You'd better start saving for this boat when we get back," I say.

"I'll squirrel away every loose coin."

"Fake pirate gold included?"

"Hey, I didn't know it was fake!"

"Oh please. I saw that look on your face in the poor man's shop."

He looks offended, then bursts into laughter. "I promise to pay him back if—"

"_ When _—"

"_ When _we get home."

"Using…"

"Well…" He sighs. "Pretty much used up the last of my coin. You think he'll accept wit, charm, and diablerie?"

I reach out to trace the lines of his eye patch. "More diablerie-ous now that you've got you eye patch back, I must say."

He smirks. "Knew you liked it!"

"Not that the red eyeball wasn't nice."

He bites his lip. "You think my eye is…"

I put a finger to his lips. It's painfully easy to send him into a spiral. For all his bravado and swagger, he's been kicked around too much to have developed anything more than a hard but brittle shell. "I think you're beautiful, Julian."

"Nose included?"

I kiss the tip of his nose in response. It's cold, like the rest of him, and I nuzzle the sharply-chiseled tip with my lips. "I'd just prefer to be reminded of you a swashbuckling pirate slave than the fact that I..." Un-captain-like, my voice falters. "The plague…I…"

A lump rises in my throat, and for a moment it's hard to breathe.

"Say no more, my love." He curls an arm around me and plants a kiss on my forehead. "But I bet you wouldn't buttering me up with honeyed words if I shaved my head."

I burst out laughing at his non sequitur, any darkness banished. "You shave your head, Julian, and I feed you to the vampire eels!"

He releases me and falls back dramatically, clutching at his side. I can almost see the blood from my vampire eel bite staining the skin on his torso. "Quite a first date that was, eh? Have you ever been so thoroughly swept off your feet?"

"Counting that time you almost killed me with an apple cart? Or my hitting you in the head with a bottle?"

Julian laughs. "Memorable is memorable!"

"It certainly didn't top your tossing me in the canal to be devoured by eels."

"I had nothing to do with that!"

I pin him gently to the bed. "You calling me clumsy, boy?"

"No, I—"

I cut him off with a long, slow kiss. Every time we've had alone till now it we've been surrounded by danger, on the run, or with mere minutes. The frantic kissing was fun, but now I take the time to enjoy it, savoring the warmth growing between my legs as I trail kisses down his throat, sucking bruises into the pale skin. He _mmm _s into my mouth and I find his mouth again, biting his lips gently, sliding my tongue inside. His lips are cool, warming against mine. His hand wanders, sliding around my waist, fingers ghosting over my hip.

I give his bottom lip one last nip, hard enough to bleed, and settle back. He sighs through his nose and nestles in the curve of my neck. His hand slides slid over my hip, resting on my bare thigh, thumb just trailing against the edge of my knickers.

The light streaming through the open door has turned blue, turning the cozy chamber into a mass of soft shadow. I twitch my finger and spark the red lantern on the stool near the bed to life, the soft light softening Julian's sharp features. There are so many questions I want to ask him, so much I still want to know about him, but ask him now, the night before we face the Devil, is to acknowledge that I might not get the chance to ask them in the future.

I try to focus on what's here, what's now: his face against my shoulder, his thumb moving up-and-down inside my leg, the softness of his rich auburn hair on my throat.

Given Julian's' constant flirting and innuendo and the _interesting _contents of his sea chantey, I would have thought he'd have ensured there were no clothes between us by now, but he seems content to lie there against me for eternity in the imaginary pirate sloop, pink light flickering, room rocking gently, holding each other in this pocket realm where no time exists. We could have forever here…

_No _, I remembered with effort. _We couldn't _. Our friends needed us. Not just our friends—the world—but right then the thought of Portia, Nadia, and Asra was more real than the world, the majority of which had been stolen from me when my memories were ripped from me. This was a fantasy, not a life.

I put the captain's hat back on and painfully dig the heel of my palm into his diaphragm as I roll over to straddle him.

"Dear—"

"That's Captain to you, pet." For all I know my position is hurting him, and I inch forward to make sure it does, pressing it down harder. He swallows and goes very still, gazing up at me. I've still got my undergarments on but I'm otherwise naked, and I would be blushing if the light weren't so dim and his hungry gray eyes weren't so appreciative.

"You're beautiful," he says. "_ Captain _."

I reach down to touch his bruised throat, trailing my hand over to touch his bloody lip. How hard had I bitten him? I leaned down to suck on the bite, drawing blood again, then straighten up to settle down on his legs again. I look down at him appraisingly, admiring the broad expanse of chest, the sharpness of his shoulders, the curl of his auburn hair on the black pillow.

I've thought about this many, many times since we'd first met, but now that we were actually here—

"Going to make me wait, Captain?" he asks, smirking, eyebrow as indecent as his sea chantey.

I don't know how to ask what I want to ask. Julian notices my hesitation and reaches up to place one large slim hand on my hip.

"Did I give you permission to touch me?" The words are out of my mouth before I think. They come out harsher than I would have liked….except he _loves _it, Adam's apple bobbing, breath catching.

"Tell me what to do," he says, pupils blown wide, nostrils quivering. "_ Please _."

I try to think of all the filthy things I'd imagined since we'd left but nerves have strangled my vocal cords. _This isn't real _, I tell myself. _This isn't your real body. There are no real risks. _

"Captain?" he says.

I take a deep breath, hoping he doesn't notice my weakness, and place on hand on his chest. I dig my fingernails in, leaving red crescents in his pale skin. "Ever done with this a woman, pet?"

He blinks. "Whatever do—"

"I know you were with Asra, which—" I wrinkle my nose. The thought of Julian in bed with Asra, pale skin against bronze, limbs tangling, red hair mixed with white, sends a pulse of heat through my groin, but at the same time it reminds me of the crush I had on Asra after I lost my memories. An entirely chaste crush, not anything like mix of physical and emotional passion I feel for the overgrown plague doctor spread out beneath me. But still, not Julian. And it reminds me of how Julian—attractive, flirtatious, self-hating, reckless Julian—has had lovers before. Likely many lovers. Lovers who weren't me.

I feel myself blushing, and I don't feel very commanding despite the Captain's hat.

"I though I'm supposed to be blusher here, love," he says, and I open my mouth to demand he call me Captain and end up dropping the façade instead. This is Julian, the man I love. If I can't be honest with him, who can I be honest with?

"I've never done this before," I confess. "I mean, I think I did, before I lost my memories, but…but not since then. I mean," I say he just keeps looking up at me, not speaking, "there are ways for a woman to tell, you know, and uh…I mean, I could have done it myself, if you know what I mean, but…"

He reached up a long arm, putting a finger to my lips. "And you're embarrassed about that? About waiting till you found someone you…cared about?"

"No. Of course not. I just…you've been…_ around _, and…"

He laughs, his hand sliding down to grip my bicep. "_ You _want to please _me _?"

"Of course I do. When you were with…" _Asra _, I think, but I don't say it out loud, "more…mild-mannered partners, did they…do what you…need? Or want," I added when he raises one of his oh-so-mobile eyebrows. "I can't imagine you and….other people…" Meaningfully, I reach up to touch the captain's hat.

"You'd be surprised at what he's capable of, the kinky bastard," he says, suddenly somber. He knows exactly who we're talking about. "But..." He reaches up to cup my cheek with his hand. I turn into it, kissing his palm. "At the same time, in the short time we've been together, you've given me more validation and true affection than he ever did, for all his soft-spokeness and..." He stops. "More than anyone has in years…my memory is patchy, but that much I know. Does that make sense?" He bites his bloody lip, eyes darting over the patch of stars visible through the open door. "…I mean, I'm not wrong about the validation and…affection, right?"

The fact that he can make full eye contact while belting out a sea chantey that would have drawn horrified complaints at the Rowdy Raven but can't look at me in the eye when asking me if I cared about—not even love, him, just _cared _about him—is like a physical pain in my chest.

I take off the captain's hat and slide off him, nestling in his arms. "It does, Julian. And it was."

He blushes, a blush that would put mine to shame.

"You're so easy," I say, turning around so that my back presses against his chest, his arms completely enveloping me in warmth I've given him.

He presses a kiss under my ear. "You have no idea."

"Well, I have some idea." I hesitate, looking at the captain's hat on the bed beside me. "After this over, Julian…"

"You don't have to make promises, my dear. I could stay here like this forever. Ah, to sail the world in your arms—"

"Can you stop talking for five seconds? I was just thinking that after we beat the Devil…" I trailed my finger over the hat's long purple feather, reach up to touch the red tie on his throat. "After things get back to normal…after we…get _used _to each other…."

"Ah, dirty talk, from someone so innocent looking?"

I laugh, elbowing him in the stomach. "Shut up, doctor. I was thinking that there's got to be some old gladiator gear surplus store somewhere in the city."

"You mean…"

"You'd look good in a…" I drop my voice, blushing even a slow throb starts up between my legs. I tug slightly on the tie. "Proper collar."

"You spoil me," he whispers, his arms tightening around me. He nuzzles my neck, breath warm.

I twist, kissing him gently. "Won't be for you, pettie. It will be for your captain."

Julian grins into my hair, one long leg curling around mine, but his hands remain chastely around my middle.

"We're going to do this, aren't we?" he says. "Tomorrow. We're going to win."

I whisper into his throat, my voice barely audible. "I'm so proud of you, my love."

His face flames so hot the sheets almost catch fire.

We continue talking in hushed voices, the only sound the gentle lap of waves against the ship's hull and soothing swirl of water around the wood and muted creak of rigging.

It's light when I wake, still tangled up in him. He's already awake, watching me sleepily.

"Morning, my dear," he says. "Or, well, close enough, anyways."

I stretch languidly, yawning. "…I could get used to this."

He hesitates, a shadow crossing his face. "So could I."

I grab his hand. "Remember the second-hand gladiator store, Julian."

He smirks, the shadow gone. I'm glad I chose that ridiculous thing to say instead of something softer and more sentimental, something that truly showed how I feel. Because outside of half-joking pet names neither of us has said "I love you" yet, or truly planned a future outside of "getting used to each other." To do so would be just as bad as asking him questions about himself. We have years to do all that. A lifetime of Devil-free years…

Making no move to get up, he burrows deeper into the covers and presses his forehead to my shoulder. "We'd better go, my dear, or I'll never want to leave."

He grins, laughing, when I whack him with a pillow. He kisses my temple and begins to extract himself from the blankets, long limbs unfolding like a novelty sailor's knife as he rolls himself out of bed. He pulls on his trousers with a flourish, waving his flowy white shirt around his body and wiggling like the flirtatious Critian dancers I've seen during parades.

I turn my back on him as if I'm offended, and he snickers and tucks in his shirt as I look over my shoulder and peak demurely at him threw my fingers.

Outside door is the sparkling rainbow colors of the magician's realm instead of the narrow ship's stairs.

Julian takes a deep breath, square his shoulders, and grins at me.

"Alright, my love, let's go. We've got a Devil to stop."

Together, we step through the door


End file.
